


Pumpkin Faces In the Night

by fallsouthwinter



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Jack-o'-lanterns, Kissing, M/M, Pumpkins, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, hey look it's autumn in my fic, not so accidental flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-01 14:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16286072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallsouthwinter/pseuds/fallsouthwinter
Summary: DAY 3 PROMPT: Every year we try and see who has the better carved pumpkin/decor. It’s a silent rivalry. But. This year. Is different.





	Pumpkin Faces In the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! I wrote something outside of the Skating AU for the first time in _months!_ This fic was a lot of fun to write - I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Huge thank you to ANTchan for her beta work!
> 
> Title from The Misfits - Halloween ~~the rest of the lyrics do NOT match the tone of the fic, however~~

It had all started when someone had moved into the house on Bodhi’s left. 

Well, if Bodhi wanted to get technical, it had started several months later, since his new neighbor had moved in during the spring. Bodhi hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. So what if the guy was absolutely gorgeous, with a jawline that could cut glass and incongruently soft hair framing his face, the kind of soft that made your hands itch to run through it? So what if Bodhi’s eyes did linger a bit too long after the short, polite nods of acknowledgement as they went to and from their houses? No one would know but him.

Then October arrived.

Bodhi loved autumn. Once the air turned cool enough, he would sit outside on his porch, drinking tea. The first few years it had been on the front steps, until eventually he bought a patio set so he could sit outside properly, even if (especially if) it was raining. He usually drank orange spice and lapsang souchong, the flavor of the orange spice and the woodsmoke scent of the lapsang souchong melding perfectly with the crispness in the air.

Over the last few years he had taken to carving pumpkins. It was born out of a day of pure boredom, picking up a pumpkin at a grocery store on a whim and setting to carving it that day. The thing had been a mess, none of the lines straight, and he’d cut himself at least twice, but once he had it on the porch, watching the flickering amber glow from the jack-o-lantern, he was hooked. He started making a day of it, finding pumpkin patches and carefully looking for that pumpkin perfect for whatever he planned on carving into it. Eating pumpkin cheesecake at a cafe he had stumbled over. Carving his pumpkin in the kitchen while he drank tea, pumpkin seeds roasting in the oven. It was something to look forward to.

That year, the year his neighbor had just moved in, Bodhi had carved his pumpkin to look like a cat sitting in a window. He _had_ thought it was clever, until he saw what his neighbor put out on his porch the following night. It was two pumpkins, one normal looking jack-o-lantern, but it had been split down the middle revealing a smaller pumpkin carved and painted to look like a sugar skull. 

And Bodhi couldn’t just be _outdone_ like that.

From then on it seemed to escalate, Bodhi trying to find more elaborate designs, stopping just short of carving The Starry Night on his damn pumpkin (not that he had the confidence to attempt that yet, not without five backup pumpkins and Jyn on the phone the whole time so he could cry at someone. At least until she made yet another Great Pumpkin joke).

The year things seemed to start moving was the year he had carved the dead rising from a grave. A couple of days before Halloween, while Bodhi sat on his porch as usual, drinking his tea and enjoying the crisp autumn air, jack-o-lantern glowing on his porch, his neighbor came out of his house. He was carrying a jack-o-lantern that looked like it’s head had been cut open, revealing another pumpkin that had been painted to look like a brain. After setting his pumpkin on the porch, his neighbor had the audacity to turn and actually _wave_ at Bodhi.

Not that Bodhi minded, pumpkins aside. Even if being pinned by those soft, smiling brown eyes did strange things to Bodhi’s pulse rate. But Bodhi was an adult, so he clenched his tea mug, waved back, and called out, "That's an awesome pumpkin!"

Somewhere, in the back of Bodhi's head, he wondered if that was as bad as telling him he had carried a watermelon.

But his neighbor had just smiled (there went Bodhi’s pulse, skyrocketing again), and replied. “Thanks. I like yours too.”

Bodhi’s mind had raced, trying to figure out something else to say. _Want to carve more pumpkins together? Would you like to drink tea with me? I’ve been wondering what it’s like to kiss you and I wonder if you’d been wondering the same thing about me._

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the door closing behind his neighbor as he went back inside. Bodhi sighed, looked back up at the darkening sky, and drank his tea.

\-------------------

"I still don't see why you don't just ask him out," Jyn says to him in late September of the following year. It's pouring rain, and Jyn is curled up on his couch while he pours over pumpkin carving designs. It’s not the first time she’s asked him that, not by a long shot, and his reply is always basically the same.

"It's not that easy," Bodhi replies, frowning. Why were there so many designs of... _pumpkin cannibalism?_

"So your pumpkin mating ritual is easier?"

Bodhi glowers at Jyn over his laptop. “I don’t remember asking your opinion.”

Jyn merely shrugs at him. “You could always ask him to carve pumpkins with you. You could make a pumpkin friend. Or is it something where the other person can’t see the finished design in case they steal it? I mean, he already stole your heart.”

_“Jyn.”_

Rearranging herself so she is sitting upright, Jyn makes a face at Bodhi. “All I’m saying is, it’s not weird to talk to your neighbor. You’re an awesome guy, and your neighbor is clearly missing out.”

“You think so?” Bodhi asks, smiling a little.

“Of course I do. I’m friends with you, isn’t that proof enough?”

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “I’m sure you think so.”

“Hey, that’s rude,” Jyn retorts without any heat. “Just think what you can tell people: you fell in love over carving pumpkins. You knew it was true love when your hands met over the same carving knife, your eyes met over scooping out the guts of a pumpkin--”

Bodhi groans and buries his face in his hands. “Please Jyn, _stop_.”

“Maybe you can sit in a pumpkin patch and wait for the Great Pumpkin to appear.” She grins. “Who knows what could happen while you’re waiting in that cold, dark field all by yourselves...”

“That sounds like the beginning of a horror movie, not a romcom.”

“I’m not so sure. Sometimes romcoms and horror movies have indistinguishable beginnings. But if you hear chainsaws in the distance, you’ll know which it is.” Jyn pauses. “Maybe.”

“If that’s supposed to help, it isn’t.”

“Well, look at it this way, when you’re running from the chainsaw killer, hand in hand, you can huddle together in the dark, and admit your feelings while you still feel you have a chance.”

“I’m not going to sit in a pumpkin patch with him.”

Jyn rests her elbows on the couch arm, chin in her hands. “So you’ll just continue to carve your pumpkins and moon over your neighbor?”

“If I can find a design I like,” Bodhi says sourly. He doesn’t even have to look up to know Jyn is rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I know what you can carve--”

“If you say ‘chainsaw romcom--’”

“--you can carve your neighbor’s face. It’s romantic, immortalizing his face in pumpkin flesh.”

Bodhi stifles a sigh and goes back to his search, refusing to dignify that with an answer.

\-------------------

It’s the week before Halloween and Bodhi still can’t decide on a design. While he continues his fruitless search, he puts up a few decorations. He doesn’t go all out for Halloween like he’d like to, mostly because he has so much trouble finding things he likes (and he does _not_ like 99% of the cheap plastic things available). Most of what he has are ceramic pumpkins, and what looks like a raven roosting on a pile of books under a glass dome.

It’s later that same day, sitting on his porch in the autumn twilight, when he sees his neighbor pull into their driveway. Bodhi drinks his tea nonchalantly, wondering what his neighbor is going to carve for a jack-o-lantern this year. He stares down at his mug, wondering if he could ask about it, when his neighbor’s voice cuts through the twilight.

“Hey!” 

Bodhi starts and nearly drop his mug of tea. He sets his mug carefully on the table between the chairs on his porch before answering. “Um- yes?”

His neighbor walks to the edge of his own porch, jingling the keys in his hand. “I noticed you haven’t carved a pumpkin yet.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bodhi clears his throat. “Why do you ask?”

“I was planning on getting one tomorrow. I could pick one up for you if you want.”

Bodhi is silent, thinking hard. “Actually,” he begins, “I was planning on picking one up on Saturday.”

“Oh--”

“Would you like to come with me?” Bodhi asks quickly, the thought coming to him in a flash.

The look of pure surprise on his neighbor’s face is clear even in the near darkness and his neighbor fumbles his keys. “What?”

Bodhi feels his face flush. “I understand if you’re busy--”

“I’m free,” his neighbor says quickly, clenching his keys. “What time?”

“Around ten okay?”

“That’s fine.” When his neighbor smiles, Bodhi’s heart skips a beat. This is real, this is happening, and he’s having trouble believing it. He clears his throat again, suddenly realizing that they don’t even know each other’s names, despite having lived next to each other for five years and might have just agreed to a date (not that Bodhi is getting his hopes up).

“By the way, I’m Bodhi.”

“Cassian.” Cassian smiles. “I’ll see you on Saturday, Bodhi. Good night.”

Bodhi smiles back. “Good night Cassian. See you then.”

When Cassian disappears into his house, Bodhi wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. “See you then,” he whispers to the darkening sky.

He drinks his tea.

\-------------------

Bodhi wakes up a little before eight that Saturday. He showers, trims his beard, and stands in front of his closet for a good half hour trying to decide what to wear. He ultimately decided on jeans and a sweater, figuring that he shouldn’t look like he was trying to hard. Not trying to hard for _what,_ he doesn’t know. Not like they were going on a date or anything. It was just a friendly trip to get pumpkins to carve for Halloween, it wasn’t like he has to impress Cassian. No big deal.

If he really believed that, Bodhi muses, then why were his palms sweating again? But then again, his anxiety didn’t adhere to anything resembling logic, so the point was moot.

He’s in the middle of coffee and a bagel, staring at the clock and forcing himself to not even _look_ at the door until at least 9:45, when there’s a knock. Bodhi drops his bagel and goes for the door, stopping just short of running.

Cassian is standing there, looking far too attractive in his scarf and peacoat. He’s holding a tupperware full of something, and when he smiles at Bodhi, eyes crinkling at the corners, Bodhi almost can’t stand it.

“Hi,” Cassian greets, breaking Bodhi out of his thoughts. “Am I too early?”

“No- no, of course not- come in! I was just eating breakfast. Have you eaten yet?” Bodhi moves out of the way so Cassian can enter. “Can I get you anything? Cup of coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate? Glass of water?”

“No, thank you,” Cassian replies, smile widening in clear amusement. Bodhi tries to get himself to calm down. Stopping next to the kitchen table, Cassian hefts the tupperware. “I made these last night and had a few extra. Thought you might like them. They’re spice cookies.”

“Oh- yeah! Thank you. Go ahead and set them on the table.” 

“What’s the plan for today?” Cassian asks as he sets the cookies down. Bodhi picks up the remains of his breakfast and dumps them, feeling like if he tried to keep eating with Cassian there, he might choke.

“There’s a pumpkin patch about a half hour south of the city that I usually go to for my pumpkins.”

“A pumpkin patch?” Cassian hums, watching Bodhi as he finishes up in the kitchen. “I’ve never been to one.”

Bodhi stops in his tracks, looking up at Cassian, wide-eyed. “You’ve never been to a pumpkin patch before?” Cassian shakes his head and Bodhi sets his dishes in the sink. “You carve pumpkins every year and you’ve never been to a pumpkin patch. Where do you get them from?”

“...the grocery store?”

“Blasphemy,” Bodhi teases. “All right, that’s something we’re definitely fixing today.” He pauses, realizing that Cassian might not have anticipated a trip like this. “If you’re still up for it.”

Cassian appears to think it over, then nods. “I am. But you’ll have to drive.”

\-----------------

The drive is quiet, a little awkward, but nowhere near as bad as Bodhi thought it would be. He still has to stifle his sigh of relief when they hit the turn-off for the farm.

There are several families already there, and Bodhi can hear one parent telling their kid to stop climbing on the pumpkins. “Do you need two pumpkins again this year?” Bodhi asks as they weave though the tall tangles of vines, crunching through the dry grass.

Cassian shakes his head. “No, only one this time.”

“Your design last year was really good,” Bodhi says. “Where did you come up with that?”

“Internet,” Cassian replies, and Bodhi laughs.

“Same here. But they don’t hold a candle to your creations.”

“Please, I wish I could carve pumpkins like you do. I’ve tried carving designs beyond a simple jack-o-lantern face, but they always end up a mess.”

“Do the skulls you carve not count? What about the paint job you did on that one a few years ago?”

Cassian raises his eyebrows at Bodhi. “Painting and carving are two completely different things. But you may have a point about the skulls.”

Bodhi grins and stuffs his hands back into his pockets as a child somewhere behind them lets out an ear splitting shriek. “So, we like each other’s pumpkins.”

Cassian grins back. “Seems that way.”

“Want to trade pumpkins when we’re done carving?”

“Only if you don’t claim my artwork as your own.”

“Never.”

They eventually find pumpkins they like, Cassian picking a medium sized one with few blemishes, and Bodhi finding a taller, lopsided one. They pay and head over to Bodhi’s truck, setting the pumpkins in the bed before hopping into the cab, grateful to be out of the chill autumn air.

Bodhi turns on the truck, rubbing his hands together to ward off the chill still lingering in his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cassian blowing on his hands, and he has to squash the sudden thought of warming Cassian’s hands for him. He turns on the heater. “Anything else you want to do? I’m getting kind of hungry, what about you?”

“I could eat. Have anything in mind?”

“There’s a cafe I usually go to after coming here. They have very good pie.”

“Pumpkin pie, by any chance?”

“And pumpkin cheesecake,” Bodhi says, grinning. “It’s amazing.”

“Sounds good to me,” Cassian replies, and Bodhi throws the truck in gear.

\-------------------

“So you said their pumpkin cheesecake is good?” Cassian asks as they’re sitting down in the cafe. He removes his coat and scarf, revealing a soft looking sweater and the column of his neck. Bodhi snags the menu of desserts sitting on the table to distract himself.

“Yeah, but they have other pies, too,” Bodhi says, flipping the menu open to the list of pies and hands it to Cassian.

“Looks like they have every type of pie on the planet,” Cassian says, eying the list. “Truth be told, I’m not a huge fan of pumpkin pie. I don’t like the texture. Is the cheesecake any better?”

Bodhi tries to focus on what Cassian is saying, but he’s starting to feel nervous. His mind is starting to overflow with the idea that this could be an actual date? And if it is (Bodhi doesn’t dare hope, but it’s becoming difficult), he doesn’t want to blow it. It’s coming alongside the creeping feeling that Cassian is only humoring him and won’t talk to him again once today is over, and he has to keep reminding himself that Cassian was the one who greeted him the day they agreed to this outing.

“Bodhi?”

Bodhi snaps out of his thoughts and looks at Cassian. “Tell you what, you can try a bite of my cheesecake and see what you think?”

Cassian smiles, and Bodhi feels a little lightheaded. “Sounds good to me.”

Bodhi gets a slice of pumpkin cheesecake, which comes with topped with whole pecans along the outer edge. Cassian opts for a slice of apple pie, with comes with a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream.

“Here,” Bodhi takes a bit of cheesecake and a pecan onto his fork and holds it out to Cassian. Cassian looks at it, and then, instead of taking the fork like Bodhi assumed he would, he leans in and takes the bite, fingers on Bodhi’s wrist. Though they’re only lingering there to keep Bodhi’s hand in place, it’s causing a searing warmth to crawl up Bodhi’s arm and through his chest.

It’s all over in a few seconds, and when Cassian leans back, Bodhi very carefully sets his fork on his plate and presses his hands together under the table, trying to get them to stop shaking. Trying to feel something other than the ghost of Cassian’s fingers on his wrist. “Any good?”

“It’s good,” Cassian says. He picks up his spoon and gathers a bit of apple pie and ice cream and holds it out to Bodhi. Bodhi looks at it for a moment, then decides _fuck it,_ and leans forward, eating the bite off Cassian’s spoon, fingers gently holding Cassian’s hand to keep it still. He has to slurp a bit to get the ice cream fully off the spoon, and Cassian’s eyes go almost comically wide. When Bodhi releases his hand and leans back, Cassian all but drops his spoon on the table.

“It’s good,” Bodhi says, voice sounding weirdly pitched. They sit in silence for another moment, then all at once they’re laughing, Bodhi’s hands coming up so he can cover his face.

“You sure it’s good? Want to try some more?” Cassian asks when he can quell some of his laughter.

Bodhi shakes his head, picking his fork back up. “Just eat your pie.”

\-------------------

Bodhi invites Cassian to his house to carve pumpkins together. Cassian accepts, and runs over to his house to grab his supplies while Bodhi sets up in the kitchen, gathering his own supplies and absolutely not panicking.

“We’re just carving pumpkins together,” Bodhi verbally reminds himself as he changes out of his sweater into an old pull-over hoodie for the duration of carving pumpkins. He tries not to think about what Cassian would think of his poor change of attire. He also tries not to think about the fact that he still has no idea what to carve. Or about the possible flirting at the cafe earlier. Or about Jyn’s ridiculous comment about falling in love over carving pumpkins. Bodhi supposes it would be less of a problem if Cassian was turning out to be less _likable_.

While he waits, he snags a cookie from the tupperware Cassian had left on the table that morning. The container has to have at least two dozen cookies in it, and Bodhi wonders just how many cookies Cassian was making last night if these are extra. It’s delicious, soft and slightly chewy, and the cinnamon is almost overpowering. Bodhi can’t help but think they’d go perfect with his tea and immediately grabs a second cookie.

There’s a knock at the door as Bodhi is laying out tablecloths on the kitchen floor, making Bodhi’s heart nearly jump out of his chest. “It’s open!” he calls, and a few seconds later he hears the door open. Cassian appears in the kitchen, and Bodhi does not thrill at the knowledge that Cassian is _in his house again_. Good thing he cleaned the other day, which was completely unmotivated by the possibility of inviting Cassian in.

“You’ve tried the cookies?” Cassian asks, setting his bag of supplies on the table next to the still open container as he takes his coat and scarf off again. “How are they?”

“They’re very good,” Bodhi says, straightening and definitely not looking in Cassian’s direction. “I’ll have to hide them from Jyn, otherwise she’ll eat them all.”

“Jyn, is she… a friend?”

Hearing the uncertainty in Cassian’s voice makes Bodhi, who is now in the middle of tying back his hair, look over at Cassian. He doesn’t dare hope that it means what he thinks it might. “Yeah. Known her for years. It was kind of like I gained another sibling.”

“Another?” Cassian’s posture eases. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Two. Ayesha and Siyana. You have any siblings?”

“No. I’m an only child, for better or worse.”

They set up their areas around their pumpkins as they chat, sitting across from each other on the tablecloths. Their supplies are separated out, so there’s no chance of their hands touching as they go for the same knife, Bodhi thinks darkly, glaring down at his pumpkin. If Cassian notices anything, he doesn’t react, cutting at his own pumpkin.

It’s a while before Cassian looks up, having already cut a lid on his own pumpkin and starting to dispose of the pulp. In that short time, Bodhi had started drumming his fingers on his pumpkin and staring at it, as if the pumpkin sitting in front of him could give him the answer to life’s mysteries.

“You’re not carving your pumpkin?” Cassian asks, looking confused. Bodhi blows out a breath, fingers stilling.

“I haven’t-- I couldn’t find a design I liked. I was hoping getting a pumpkin would help inspire me…” Bodhi trails off, feeling like an idiot.

“Like Michelangelo, seeing the forms in the marble?” Cassian asks. Then he frowns, setting down the spoon he was using. “You invited me over to carve pumpkins with you, and you don’t have a design.” He looks at Bodhi, and Bodhi feels his face flush. “Why?”

Bodhi feels his face heat, realizing that he was about to be caught because of a lack of pumpkin carving, and it feels _too_ ridiculous and too _soon._ He was supposed to be able to build up to this! “I’m going to make some tea, you want any?” he asks, scrambling to his feet. “There’s still hot chocolate and-”

“Bodhi.” Cassian says his name so softly that it makes Bodhi’s heart clench. He hears the tablecloth crinkling as Cassian gets up. He can see Cassian in his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t turn. He _can’t._

“Hey, I get it, making friends as an adult can be-”

“No,” Bodhi says suddenly, setting down the kettle he’d been fiddling with down too hard on the stove. “I mean… _yes,_ I want to be friends with you…but...”

The kitchen is silent for a full minute, and Bodhi clenches the handle of the kettle, wondering when Cassian will put him out of his misery. Tell him that he just wants to be friends, too, so Bodhi can pack away his feelings properly. It wasn’t like he was lying, he wants to be friends with Cassian either way.

“Is that all you want?” Cassian breaks the silence, voice just as soft earlier when he had said Bodhi’s name earlier. It makes Bodhi take a chance to look over.

Cassian is leaning against the counter just _looking_ at Bodhi. Standing, looking, but the expression on his face and in his eyes has Bodhi drawing up short, makes his mouth go dry again and his heart jolt in his chest. It makes him think _fuck it_ for the second time that day before he speaks.

“What- would you say,” Bodhi starts, unable to tear his eyes away from Cassian’s face, “if… if I said I’ve been wondering… wondering what kissing you would be like?”

Cassian sucks in a sharp breath, surprise clear across his face. Bodhi tamps down on the rising anxiety, wishing it would wait until _after_ Cassian answered him.

“I’d say…” Cassian’s voice is giving Bodhi the same feeling as a foggy autumn morning, and he tries not to fidget under Cassian’s gaze. “I’d say I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

Bodhi blinks, wondering if he heard Cassian right. “You have?”

Cassian nods, pushing away from the counter and into Bodhi’s space. They’re barely within arms reach, and Bodhi can’t help but think that’s too far away. Bodhi wets his lips self-consciously, noticing the exact moment Cassian’s gaze flicks down to his lips.

Closing the gap further, Bodhi slowly lifts a hand and cups Cassian’s cheek, thumb stroking the soft skin there. Cassian’s eyes flutter, and he turns his head, pressing a kiss to Bodhi’s palm. Unable to hold in his gasp, Bodhi moves closer, pressing a soft kiss to Cassian’s mouth.

The kiss is slow, new and unfamiliar, but also so very warm, especially when Cassian curls his arms around Bodhi, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie. Bodhi’s eyes fall shut, terrified this is all a dream and that he’d wake up any second, so he’s determined to make the most of this moment. He cups Cassian’s face with both hands, loving the feeling of Cassian’s hair against his fingertips, the angles of his jaw and stubble underneath his palms, the scratch of their beards as their mouths slide against one another. It feels like gravity has lost its grip on Bodhi, and if not for Cassian holding on to him, he might go flying off into space.

When they finally break apart, they don’t go far, Cassian’s arms still curled around Bodhi, Bodhi’s hands still lingering on Cassian’s jaw. 

“Fuck,” Cassian breathes. “I thought I was just imagining things.”

“Nope,” Bodhi replies breathlessly, unable to stop the smile threaten to split his face. “it’s real.” 

Cassian grins at that and leans in for another small, soft kiss, brushing another one at the corner of Bodhi’s mouth before releasing him. “Come on, let’s try to find a design for your pumpkin.”

\-------------------

That evening finds Bodhi and Cassian out on Bodhi’s porch. Their pumpkins are placed next to each other; Cassian's is a broken mess stitched together with cord like a Frankenstein’s monster. Bodhi had had a flash of inspiration and had carved his pumpkin with a gaping smile and heart eyes. The end product had been a source of, as far as Bodhi was concerned, too much amusement from Cassian, but he wasn’t complaining, since he also received a kiss in the middle of Cassian’s laughing.

They head back out to the porch after setting up their pumpkins. Bodhi carries a mug of tea and a plate of Cassian’s cookies, Cassian carries a mug of hot chocolate and a bowl of roasted pumpkin seeds. They set everything on the table and settle down, Cassian immediately taking the seat closest to the door, which is the chair that Bodhi hardly ever sits in. It makes him wonder if Cassian noticed him as much as Bodhi had noticed Cassian over the years. Considering he was sitting next to him now, and after everything that had happened that day, Bodhi figures that he likely had. It was a nice feeling, almost making Bodhi giddy. He takes a swig of his tea so he doesn’t do anything weird. Like start giggling.

“Feels a little weird sitting here, looking at my house,” Cassian says after a while, sipping at his hot chocolate.

“We could always sit on your porch,” Bodhi says.

“We could do that tomorrow.”

“You don’t have any chairs.”

“Bring yours.”

Bodhi laughs, shaking his head. When Cassian reaches over, Bodhi thinks he’s going for something on the table. He’s pleasantly surprised when Cassian takes his hand, tangling their fingers together. Bodhi smiles and squeezes Cassian’s fingers, letting their hands dangle underneath the table where it’s more comfortable.

In the glow of twilight and the candlelight radiating from his and Cassian’s jack-o-lanterns, Bodhi drinks his tea.


End file.
